Groundhog Day Eve
by forever fan
Summary: Will this romance have an early spring or six more weeks of winter? Part of a holiday series of stories. It may help to read the stories in order.


**Title: Groundhog Day Eve**

**Author: Forever Fan**

**Rating: T**

**Spoilers: none **

**Category: Romance/Supernatural**

**Disclaimer: This property belongs to David Gerber Productions and FOX Television. Lyrics of Cole Porter used with respect but without permission. **

**I make no profit and intend no infringement. **

**Summary: Will this romance have an early spring or six more weeks of winter? Part of a holiday series of stories. It may help to read the stories in order. **

**Feedback: Yes, please**

January came with bright blue skies and brisk breezes. The days were mild and in the evenings the skies were so clear you could see the stars forever. With the hectic holiday season behind them, the busy schedule of the active Everett family continued at its usual pace. The new semester had begun both at school and the university, and there were all of those constant household chores to complete. After-school obligations and hobbies filled evenings and weekends with new enthusiasm after the short holiday hiatus.

However, those early January evenings took no break from one habit set during the winter break. Once the children were in bed, and evening tasks were seen to, Professor Everett and Nanny would sit talking together on the living room sofa or loveseat, often accompanied by firelight and soft music. Frequently those evenings of muted conversations, sweet kisses and tender caresses ended sooner than the ones they had enjoyed during the holidays. When gentle sighs turned to ardent moans, they both found it wise to say good night before the carefully constructed unspoken rules of their relationship dissolved completely.

However not all shared physical affection was confined to late evening companionship or exclusively when alone, although discretion was key. During one spectacular sunset, Nanny bundled all of the family into sweaters and hurried them to the backyard. Everyone exclaimed over the beautiful reds, oranges and violets as they streaked across the horizon, and marveled over the hundreds of visible stars as they began to pit the sky. Young Hal named as many stars as he could, his father filling in to identify more until the children complained of being cold and trooped back into the house to watch television. The Professor and Nanny lingered behind, sitting together on the chilled iron of the garden seat, his arm casually around her shoulders. He pointed out more constellations and recited more astronomical facts until he noticed she was watching him instead of the stars.

"You're not paying attention," he admonished her with a grin.

"Yes, I am. I heard every word you said." Her expression was proud and affectionate. "You really are a brilliant man."

Hal frowned. "You doubted that?"

"No. But it can slip my mind from time to time while I'm caught up appreciating your other traits."

"Oh?" He tightened his loose embrace and pulled her closer. "What other traits?"

Head on his shoulder, Phoebe brought her hand to lie gently on his chest. After a moment she turned and whispered in his ear. "I don't think I'll tell you. I don't want you to become conceited. Your total lack of vanity is one of the things I admire about you."

"Hmmm," his shiver was more in response to her warm, moist breath on his skin that the encroaching cold. "Tell me more. What else do you admire about me?"

In reply, she tilted her head towards him and raised her hand to stroke his jaw. He met her lips in a gentle kiss, but pulled away abruptly when he heard the backdoor open.

"Dad!" Hal called from the doorway. "You're wanted on the telephone."

"Be right there," his father acknowledged. He stood up with a sigh then took her hand and helped her to her feet. They walked across the yard hand in hand.

Phoebe gazed up at him and the moonlight shone on her bright, upturned face. "Discretion," she told him, "I admire your discretion."

He grinned at her again then lifted her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss.

XXXXXXXXX

Hal did take some indiscreet chances at times. He developed the unfortunate but endearing habit of coming downstairs early in the mornings for the express purpose of grasping Phoebe as she was cooking breakfast. Entering the kitchen as quietly as possible, he would step up behind her and slip his arms around her waist murmuring, "Good Morning, Phoebe" into her ear. Often this would occur mere seconds before one of the children entered the room. The combination of his warm embrace and low voice would create a delicate frisson in her, leaving a satisfied smile on his face. At times he'd also try to sneak a goodbye kiss whenever she seemed not to be paying attention and the kids weren't looking. However, on these mornings Hal was never really sure if he actually managed to surprise her or not.

Phoebe took her own advantages. Using her uncanny knack for knowing where the children were at all times, she would greet him at the door with a tantalizing kiss, breaking off before an interruption came from an arriving school bus or a ringing telephone. And when bringing Hal his afternoon tea or after dinner coffee, a lingering look or innocent caress as she passed him his cup caused him, more than once, to reach for her to share a short, but tender, kiss. He was convinced they both found these encounters highly stimulating but less than fulfilling. In fact, that was the phrase that often passed through his mind whenever he thought about any of their liaisons.

However, growing frustration didn't stop him from continuing to pursue her kisses. Hal was grateful for every quick, playful kiss as well as for each long, passionate one. Not above catching her off guard while she was working; he twice trapped her in the laundry room and once in the tool shed where their kisses were shielded away from the curiosity of the children or of the neighbors. Coming home late from a meeting one evening, he was pleased when Phoebe met him in the shadowed garage. The kiss they shared there was so enticing it took all of his reserve not to lure her into the car. Sophomoric as it might seem, necking in the backseat with her definitely had its erotic appeal. Their on-going hidden kisses, caresses and late evening trysts were headed in a wonderful direction, but as yet hadn't arrived at any destination. They had never had a serious discussion regarding their relationship, but during the increased frequency of their physical encounters, they communicated beautifully and clearly with one another regarding where they both certainly wanted to go.

The excitement of concealing desire met their strong, ripening appetites, and at times animal nature began to overtake the allure of subtle seduction or even common sense. On the Saturday after New Year's Day the entire family spent all morning taking down Christmas decorations. After packing all of the tinsel and lights into boxes, everyone carried box after box to the basement. Then Phoebe began to arrange the boxes on high storage shelves while perched on a ladder secured against a wall. Hal lifted the boxes to her as the children returned to the living room to clear it of any remaining trash. Alone in the basement, they were focused on their task until Hal became acutely aware of her shapely legs just at his eye level. Her twisting, bending and reaching just inches above him was distracting him from everything that didn't involve her shifting curves.

At last acknowledging his preoccupied silence, Phoebe turned to him. With dusty hands she pushed loose strands of hair away from her perspiring face.

"Are you going to just stand there and watch me, or are you going to help me arrange things?" Her tone was severe, but her eyes were amused.

"I'm going to watch you." Hal took a step onto the lowest rung of the ladder and his ocean blue eyes were bright and predatory. "Can you think of something better for me to do?"

"You could help me by giving suggestions," Phoebe replied, moving slightly away from his approach.

"Oh, I have plenty of suggestions." His voice was a low growl. "But none of them have anything to do with arranging decoration storage boxes."

"Then get off of my ladder, please," she said in a teasing tone, trying to dissuade his assent towards her.

Hal took another step closer. "Maybe I can help you this way." Gaining another rung his arms had her legs caged on the ladder and his face was level with her waist. "We can switch places for awhile."

Looking down into his eyes Phoebe seemed very affected by how close he was to her. In a low voice she replied, "I could never lift those heavy boxes so high – I don't have the strength."

He took another step and his face was just below hers. "I'll help you," he said softly, "but I think I'm losing strength too."

They looked steadily into each other's eyes. It was exhilarating to be standing so close, and to be standing in reverse of their usual positions. Hal found he liked looking up into her eyes and liked the risk of their stance. He also liked that she was perspiring lightly – it intensified her light lavender fragrance – and underneath it her unique female scent was luring him.

Wanting to be closer, he attempted the next rung. The ladder wobbled.

"Don't," Phoebe whispered. She sounded almost frightened.

"Then come down." He found his breath was shallow. "Step down into me. I won't let you fall."

She looked as if she were about to say something, then started to descend. In one step they'd be face to face. The gaze of their blue eyes remained locked and as her foot felt for the next rung on the ladder, she slipped.

Her body slid against his and he caught her, pressing her against the frame of the ladder. There was a dangerous creak and a dizzying sway, but they stayed upright. Only one of her feet remained on the ladder, and Phoebe clung to his neck for balance. Possibly it was the rush of adrenaline from the near fall, but he thought he could hear her rapid heartbeat.

Phoebe was panting in Hal's ear and he couldn't stop himself from pressing even closer to her. She whimpered, and at the sound of her distress a primitive protective urge surfaced inside of him.

"Are you o.k.?" He asked, concerned.

Nodding against his neck she took a deep but shaky breath. Holding her tightly he took a deep breath of his own. She smelled so good, so sweet and so delicious that he ached to taste her. And as if she could intuit his desires, Phoebe turned her face to his and offered him her parted lips.

The whisper soft sigh of her surrender caused him to crush her mouth with his. Hal suddenly couldn't kiss her deeply enough, couldn't hold her closely enough, and couldn't feel enough of her body against his. She kissed him back with the familiar, fierce urgency of her own, humming into his mouth and pressing her palms to his strong back. Perched as precariously as they were on the ladder, he knew the greater danger was just being in the intimate embrace of one another's arms.

"Dad!" He heard Butch calling him from the top of the basement stairs. "Dad, we need you to help us move the tree!"

Groaning, Hal reluctantly pulled away from her lips.

"Things will be worse if he comes down here now." Some impishness crept back into Phoebe's voice.

Carefully he took slow steps backwards down the ladder, guiding her down each rung.

"Dad!" Butch called again.

Not completely trusting the steadiness of his voice, Hal answered: "I'll be right there!" Standing on the floor once more, he watched as Phoebe smoothed her skirt and blouse and ran a trembling hand over her curls. She looked as neat and pretty and presentable as ever – only the attractive dark blush coloring her cheeks and lips appeared at all out of place. He only hoped he didn't look as disheveled or as shaken as he felt.

"You look beautiful," she told him shyly.

"Beautiful?" He repeated with a grin. "Isn't that my line? You are beautiful."

"Dad?" This time it was his oldest son starting down the stairs.

"I said: I'll be right there!" Hearing his father almost shout made the boy stop and retreat back up the stairs.

Hal started across the basement then looked back at her sheepishly.

"I'm fine," Phoebe told him. "I'll finish up here."

He indicated his agreement with a nod and headed towards the first floor. He hoped his head would clear before he reached the living room.

XXXXXXXXX

On the first day of each month, Hal sat with a stack of bills and his checkbook and completed paying all of the monthly bills. It was a methodical process, honed after years of managing the household expenses. It never took him very long, but tonight he seemed to linger over the task. There was a ledger of daily expenditures written in Phoebe's precise, clear handwriting, all sevens notated in the European fashion, some English expressions dotting through her item listings making him smile. There was the occasional pound sign crossed out in error and a dollar sign noted instead. Her bookkeeping was all very ordered and professional, with every penny accounted for, and so very different than his late wife's narrative of the household bills. With a shake of his head Hal remembered Mary's haphazard style. Stained receipts (if she remember to keep them), crumpled notes with unintelligible writing even she couldn't interpret, and never, not once, did her tally of figures agree with his. Mary had been a talented engineer, but her household mathematics was always sloppy and assured at least one monthly argument between them.

Finishing the bills, Hal closed Phoebe's neat green ledger and thought that although those arguments with Mary were predictable, the making up was always fun. In nearly ten years of marriage they'd never had a serious fight, but there had been some rocky patches. Still, he missed her warm affection, her devilish sense of humor and her analytical mind. They used to have lengthily conversations over scientific journal articles and mathematical theory, mostly before their first child was born. However, after she gave up her career to raise the children, those discussions became fewer and shorter. Over the years since her death, Hal often wondered if she would have returned to teaching once Prudence started school as they had planned, and what their lives would be like now. Sighing, he put away his bookkeeping paperwork. To think about these things was nonsense. Mary had been gone three years last month, and she wasn't coming back.

Although it was late, Hal was too restless to go to bed, so he decided to check on the kids then get himself a snack before retiring. Making his way through the quiet house, he wondered where Phoebe had gone after the kids were in bed tonight. It had been well over a week since they had spent any time alone together, and he was missing her. Lately he was involved in some exciting research developing computer languages, and that was taking up a lot of his time. He was working longer hours into the evening, but thought that might have just been his excuse for not seeking out her company. However, she hadn't come to him recently either. Frowning, he wondered if he'd done or said anything to frighten or offend her. Phoebe could be puzzling and sometimes difficult for him to understand. Would she even tell him if something was bothering her? He knew it was becoming more and more difficult to remember where the boundaries were between them – she was still in his employ after all – and he didn't know where she saw their relationship headed. Some of the time even he wasn't certain.

The boys were sleeping peacefully and Waldo didn't rouse when Hal stepped over him to open the boys' bedroom door. Prudence had recently recovered from a short illness, and as usual would require recovering at least once a night. Checking on her, he tucked her blanket back around her as she slept; making certain the night light was on before leaving the room and silently closing her door.

Standing in the hallway, he looked at Phoebe's closed door. For some reason it seemed to be tightly shut against him, although he knew that was probably just his late night imagining. There was no sliver of light from under the door, no sound of her creaking rocker or any quiet music, so he knew he didn't even have a pretense of a reason for knocking on her door at such a late hour. Hal suddenly longed to see her, but stopped himself from disturbing her.

The last time he had stood in this hallway, it was in the middle of the night nearly two weeks ago. Prudence's winter cough had woken both Hal and Phoebe, and they sat with the child while her breathing eased and the medication the doctor had prescribed relaxed her enough to sleep. Then they left the girl's room under the white noise of the vaporizer.

"I think she'll sleep through the night now," Phoebe had said, closing the door behind them.

In the dim light, the sight of her mused hair and slight figure in a soft nightgown and robe had drawn him nearer to her. Just a few hours earlier she had been a warm and giving woman in his arms, the passion of their kisses making for another difficult good night. Now she seemed fragile and young in low heeled slippers with her fresh earnest face looking up at him.

"You are wonderful with her," Hal then told her taking her into his arms. In their bedclothes in the early hours of the morning, holding her seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to do. "And you are so wonderful with her father."

Then he kissed her as if they had never parted that evening. Phoebe had hesitated for a moment then eagerly responded to his searching lips. Her arms had reached around him, and she sighed as he kissed her neck. Pushing aside the silken material at her throat, he partially bared her shoulder to his hungry mouth. He hadn't kissed that forbidden skin since Christmas, and he groaned at the remembered familiar taste.

Moving closer still, he then pressed her against the wall as his hands caressed her supple contours and curves. Lips on her white shoulder her spoke into her flesh. "You are so soft. Are you this soft all over?"

Phoebe had moaned her answer and he captured her mouth again. His head had been spinning – he couldn't remember ever wanting a woman, needing a woman, loving a woman as much as her. Hal was totally under her spell, she had absolute power over his heart and his home. She was as completely entwined in his life as she was in his arms. Her bewitching mystery and alluring evasiveness only spurred him on in his pursuit of her and his desire to possess her.

Holding her like that he had felt like a caveman – ready to drag her off to his bed or to pull her the last few feet and into her own. As the kiss deepened he started to understand the motivation of the demented bell ringer Quasimodo – the door leading to the attic was nearby - he could lift her into his arms and carry her to that dusty and drafty lair. Once there he could make love to her among the crates and trunks and old suitcases on a tattered army surplus cot. Right now…he didn't care.

"I want you," Hal had managed to gasp. His hot breath on her throat he'd rasped, "I need you so much and I…" He couldn't say the words. Even looking into darkened eyes filled with her own need, he couldn't tell her he loved her.

It was impossible to conceal his desire for her, but the risk of confronting her with the needs of his body seemed safer, somehow, than revealing the deepest yearnings of his heart. He was terrified of losing her, of frightening this free spirit he held in his arms. But he didn't want to keep her, for however long she would allow, by exchanging her wanderlust for physical lust. He wanted her to stay with him because she loved him as much as he loved her.

"Yes," Phoebe had whispered, and for one breathless moment Hal thought he had told her he loved her. Did she know what he'd been about to say? Did she even need her rare intuition to tell her, or were his emotions so close to the surface that even when he looked at her anyone could see how much he loved her?

Then Prudence had coughed again and called out. He'd slowly released her, and Phoebe moved to the girl's bedroom door. Her hand resting on the doorknob, she had turned to look at him. Hal had gazed after her with such longing and desire he'd failed when he tried to smile at her. She then gave him a gentle smile, the expression on her face tender.

"Good night, again," she had said softly and disappeared into Prudence's room.

Now, as he headed back down the stairs, Hal thought maybe that encounter had upset or unsettled her. He knew his passion had almost bypassed his rational mind that night. On Thanksgiving he had promised her they would take things slowly, but since Christmas their relationship had been moving fast, at least until recently. He resolved to discuss everything with her as soon as possible; too many things had been left unsaid for far too long. Reviewing the next day's schedule in his mind, he wondered if he could rearrange things and have some time with her without the kids around. No, he realized his schedule was packed tight. But tomorrow evening might be a nice. He could light a fire and…

Hal suddenly smelled wood burning. He was in the foyer and could see there was no fire in the fireplace. Alarmed, he opened his office door and saw a beautiful blaze in the den fireplace. He hadn't set a fire there in years.

"Then it was time you used this fireplace again," Phoebe said. She was sitting on the floor in front of the hearth and placing dry sticks onto the fire. "This will take the chill out of the room."

He closed the door behind him then crouched down next to her. Smiling, he asked, "How did you know I'd be coming back into the den tonight?"

"Oh, I knew you'd come downstairs again because you'd be hungry." She pointed to the tray she'd made for him with hot chocolate and cookies. "You didn't have much dinner tonight."

"You notice everything, don't you?" Standing, Hal held out his hand to her and pulled her to her feet. She always seemed so tiny in the late evening in slippers and robe with her hair loose and her face clean scrubbed. He felt the strong familiar urge to kiss her, to take her into his arms and express what he still couldn't say, yet something was stopping him tonight. Instead, he led her to sit on the ottoman while he took the armchair next to the tray she had prepared.

He realized low music was playing and he almost had to strain to hear the words of Cole Porter's "You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To":

**You'd be so nice to come home to**

**You'd be so nice by the fire**

Looking at Phoebe in the firelight, he was surprised to feel tears pricking his eyes. Soft and beautiful, she appeared ethereal and old-fashioned in a pale pink and white dressing gown trimmed in what he recognized was Chantilly lace. He had never seen her wear it before, and found there was something very sensual in its understated delicacy. All he wanted to do was take her into his arms and hold her until morning. He glanced away from the lovely vision she made.

After a moment she spoke in a gentle voice and Hal knew she was looking at him. "You've been very low lately."

Raising his eyes to hers he found it difficult to speak.

"Is it something I…" she began.

"Oh no," he said quickly. Leaning forward he took both of her hands in his. "You've been wonderful…it's just I…"

"It is all right for you to miss her," Phoebe said quietly. "In front of me, I mean. And to show you miss her in front of the children. I know you loved her. I know they loved her."

Hal let out the sigh he didn't realize he had been holding. How did she always know? How could she always understand? Holding her empathetic gaze he began speaking.

"Mary died right after the holidays. I guess that's why it had been so hard for me to enjoy them since. The last year she had been sick, but she tried so hard to make the holidays perfect for everyone – and they were. Homemade costumes for Halloween, a big family Thanksgiving dinner, a beautiful Christmas – we went out on New Year's Eve that year." He looked away and stared into the fire. "She had even arranged a surprise birthday party for me – right in the middle of all of those hectic holiday preparations."

"She must have loved you very much."

"She did. And I loved her, and now I feel…" He stopped.

"Guilty." Phoebe supplied softly.

"Yes." Hal said the word on a rushed breath. "Guilty and I know that's wrong. Mary was a kind and generous person – like you – she would want me to move on – to be happy. She'd want the children to be happy and to have a…"

He saw her bite her lip as if that could stop the word from coming out of his mouth. The physical affection they had been showing one another the past few months still hadn't been given definition, nor had the complicated feelings they had for each other. Nothing had ever been discussed that included marriage, and certainly not motherhood. Somehow he had to change that.

"Yes, I miss her." Their eyes met again. "But I think I feel guilty because I don't miss her more. Yes, I loved her, and I feel guilty because I love you – more."

"Don't say that," Phoebe said quickly, trying to pull away.

"No. Wait." Hal tugged on her hands so she would stay. "Maybe love isn't something you can quantify – I loved Mary at a different time in my life and for different qualities than I love in you. But I know I love you more than I can ever remember loving anyone before – and yes, that makes me feel guilty."

Looking down at their clasped hands she shook her head. Her hair shielded her expression and she whispered, "No, no…"

Panic hit him then and he tightened his hold on her hands. "What – Phoebe, what are you saying?"

When she looked at him her eyes were filled with tears. "No," she said again, "you can't feel guilty for loving someone. Mary wouldn't want you to feel that way. Please don't feel guilty for loving me. I…I can't feel guilty for loving you."

Hal touched the tears on her cheeks then pulled her towards him. Guiding her to sit on his lap, he felt a flood of relief as he whispered into her ear. "Did we just say we loved each other?

She nodded and her hair shimmered in the firelight.

"Then why are you crying?" He tried to sound amused, but his own throat was tight with unspoken emotion.

Phoebe shook her head then clung to his neck. He felt the wetness of her tears and the warmth of her shuddering breath on his skin.

"I thought I had done something…said something," she was saying. "I know in this house, the house you shared with her, we've been acting…"

"We've been acting like two people in love," Hal said, shifting her so he could look into her face. "I've kissed you in almost every room of this house. Even the kids…"

"Have noticed, I know." Her smile was shaky and her eyes were still bright, but she sighed with contentment. "They all seem happy about it. Maybe we need to talk to them, especially now when I'm sure the boys are remembering their mother."

"We will." He brushed the remnants of tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry I went into hibernation just when I should have been talking to you about us. You are the one who brought me back to life, back to joy, after all of these years. You are why I can move on with my life, to let go of the past and to let things – impossible things – happen. It's your spontaneity – your belief in magic and miracles and love – and your love – that has made my life worth living again."

Now the tears sparkling in Phoebe's cornflower blue eyes were happy ones, and the smile she gave him was full of love. She kissed him then, and he felt any remaining sadness dissolve in their kiss. All of the shadows of the past seemed to drift away and it was as if Mary herself was giving him her blessing to be happy. Kissing Phoebe in his home – the home he had shared with Mary that was now the home they shared – wasn't just kissing in their home – it was coming home. Hal didn't need Cole Porter to say what he couldn't this time, but it was true his lyrics always said it all so well, so simply:

**You'd be so nice, just like paradise**

**To come home to…and love**

Phoebe drew back from their kiss. "I came down here to cheer you up, and I'm sitting here crying. I'm sure that hot chocolate is stone cold by now. I'll just…" She started to get up, but he held her fast on his lap.

"Leave it," he nuzzled her hair. "You did cheer me up. You've changed my life." Lightening the mood he spoke in a conspiring low voice, "Besides, I saw those candies on the tray. You can't believe I'd forgotten tomorrow is Groundhog Day?"

"Well, I had heard chocolate can improve one's mood, and as tomorrow is a holiday I…" Her voice was teasing as well.

"I think that sounds as if it could be true, biochemically speaking. People eating chocolate always seem to be in a good mood." Hal reached for the dish of candy and held it out to her. "But let's try out that theory…scientifically, of course."

"And how do we do that?" She asked him in a serious voice.

"Well, you eat one candy," he was interrupted by the mantle clock striking midnight, "and we'll see if your mood improves."

Smiling, Phoebe put a chocolate into her mouth.

Hand on the warm nape of her neck, Hal pulled her close. "Hmmm," he observed, "you are smiling already. Now my taste…"

The flavor of warm crème de cacao was rich in her mouth. She curled up on his lap, and the press of her body created sensations that made him groan deep in his throat. The candy taste faded and the clock chimes stopped, but the kiss continued until his searching caresses caused her to pull away.

"You were right," Hal said, hot breath on her lips. "I was hungry. That was delicious, decadent and lush, and the candy was excellent too." Again moving nearer for another kiss, she stopped him with gentle fingertips against his mouth.

"What's the next phase of the experiment, Professor?" Phoebe asked him playfully.

In a husky voice he answered, "Well, one of the variables is the alcohol content in the liqueur. We must try another candy to see if more chocolate will combat the depressing effect of alcohol on the central nervous system."

"Oh, I see." She picked up another candy to place it into his mouth then paused. "But this has alcohol in it too. Won't that cancel out the uplifting effects of the chocolate?"

"Possibly," Hal smiled. "The only way to find out is to keep eating chocolate and see just how happy you feel. Right now I'd say I'm feeling more uplifted than I have in days." He leaned forward in anticipation.

Returning his smile, she placed the candy into his opened mouth and kissed his parted lips. Again the chocolate on chocolate taste spread warmly, and again he held her close on his lap and against his chest. Arms tight around her, his deepening kiss at last revealed her own sweet flavor as he drank from her welcoming mouth. She sighed contentedly and he gave her an answering satisfied moan. He believed their impromptu experiment was yielding most impressive and very positive results indeed.

Holding Phoebe so near, Hal marveled at how easy it was to just love her. The newness of it, the unique feeling of falling in love with her so slowly yet so certainly; it was as if he had always loved her and always would. There was nothing to be fearful of and nothing to hurry. He looked inside of himself for any shadows still lurking and found none. Then he realized like the proverbial groundhog, he had at last come out of his den after a long, cold winter and was ready to enjoy the early spring.


End file.
